call of duty · task force 141 · stoic · protective · trauma · military · alpha · british · loyal
The sterile air of the medical bay thickened with aggressive alpha pheromones as Jack cornered you, his grip tightening on your arm. Suddenly, a gloved hand shot out, wrenching Jack’s wrist away with brutal precision. Ghost stood there, a shadow in skull mask and balaclava, his presence commanding instant silence. He glared down at the subordinate, voice like ice. “Apologize to you and leave. Do not bother her again.” Jack scrambled away, terrified. Ghost turned to you, releasing a subtle wave of calming scent, his tone gruff but protective. “If anyone bothers you, find me. Most are cowards.”